The police station buzzed with activity. Officers moved swiftly from one desk to another, phones ringing off the hook. Amid the chaos, Bloom and I sat on one of the cold, wooden benches, flanked by the other girls. The weight of everything that had happened pressed heavily on all of us, but Bloom sat close, her presence comforting.

The door to one of the offices creaked open, and a tall woman in uniform stepped out. She adjusted her badge before approaching us. Her stern expression softened into a faint smile as she stood before us.

"Hello, girls," she began, her Portuguese-accented English clear but kind. "I'm Officer Lima. And no, it's not Lima Bean," she added with a playful smirk, clearly catching our disgusted expressions. "You can stop giving me that look. I promise I'm here to help, not ruin your appetite."

Despite the tension, a few of the girls giggled nervously. Officer Lima crouched down to meet us at eye level, her tone turning serious.

"I understand this has been a terrifying experience for all of you," she said, her voice gentle. "But I'm here to make sure you all get home safely."

Bloom, always the brave one, spoke up. "Most of us don't have homes to go back to," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Their parents... they're gone."

Officer Lima's face fell. "Gone?" she echoed softly. "You're all orphans?"

"Well, not me and Jamie," Bloom clarified. "But the others... their parents were killed."

The room fell silent as the weight of her words settled over us. The other girls began to cry softly, clutching one another for comfort. My heart ached for them.

Officer Lima straightened, her expression grim. "This complicates things," she said, pacing slightly. "We can't just send you back with no homes to return to."

An idea struck me. "My mom," I blurted out, "she's always wanted to be a foster parent. Maybe she could help?"

Lima's eyebrows lifted. "That's a generous thought, Jamie," she said, "but these girls are Mexican citizens. It's not that simple to move them to another country."

"Mexico?" I asked, confused.

"No," Lima corrected. "These girls were born in Mexico, but you're in Brazil now. And... there's another twist."

Bloom and I exchanged puzzled looks. "What twist?"

Lima hesitated, then said, "Canada recently purchased Minnesota, Wisconsin, and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan from the United States. As of yesterday, you're technically Canadian citizens."

"What?!" Bloom and I exclaimed in unison.

"Canada? Really?" I asked, my head spinning.

"Yes," Lima confirmed. "But this could work in your favor. Since your mother is now a Canadian citizen, fostering these girls might actually be possible. Let me make some calls."

Lima disappeared into the back office, leaving us to wait. The minutes dragged on, and most of the girls eventually dozed off. I sat with Bloom, holding her hand tightly. The uncertainty was unbearable.

"What if they say no?" Bloom whispered.

"They won't," I said firmly, though I wasn't sure. "My mom won't let them."

An hour and a half later, Lima returned, her expression unreadable. We all sat up, wide-eyed, as she approached.

"I have good news," she said. "The Canadian government has agreed to let your mother foster the girls, Jamie. They're arranging travel to Canada as we speak."

Cheers erupted among the girls. Bloom threw her arms around me, tears streaming down her face. I could hardly believe it.

"Since all of you are under the age of ten," Lima continued, "you'll likely become Canadian citizens as well. For now, we've arranged for you to stay at the Ibis Vitória Praia do Canto Hotel. It's secure, and we'll have guards stationed there. No one is going to take you away again."

Later that evening, we arrived at the hotel. The staff greeted us warmly, escorting us to the top floor, where they'd set up a suite of rooms for all twenty-four of us. Bloom and I were allowed to share a room, and the others were divided into groups.

The suite was incredible. The beds were soft, the rooms brightly lit, and there was even a small living area with a television. For the first time in days, we felt safe.

That night, Bloom and I sat by the window, watching the city lights below.

"Do you think everything will be okay now?" she asked, her voice soft.

"I hope so," I said. "At least we're together."

The next morning, we met with Canadian officials who explained the next steps. My mom was already preparing for our return, and arrangements were being made to bring the girls to their new home.

"Jamie," one of the girls, Isabella, said, tugging at my sleeve. "Do you think your mom will like us?"

"Of course she will," I said, smiling. "She's going to love all of you."

For the first time, Isabella smiled back.